Antagonism
by AndImTheQueenOfSheba
Summary: Do I...antagonize you?" He asked. "No...and just so you know, that makes no sense." I told him, resting my hand on my hip. "Yes it does! Listen...Antagonize:To make hostile or unfriendly. See? That fits this situation perfectly." !Moliver oneshot!


**_Ok, so I have some serious problem where I insist on writing new stories when I really should be finishing my other things, but as far as I know, there's no medicine for that. I wouldn't take it anyways. _****_

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With the sunlight beaming through the window, reflecting off of the title of the cover of the book he was reading, he looked stupid. Not only the expression of false concentration on his face, or the feminine pose he had struck on on my couch. It was the book itself, and the person reading it. To most people, it probably wouldn't seem strange, but I knew him, and it seemed strange to me that he was reading the dictionary, of all things.

Oliver isn't a smart person. I hate to say it, him being one of my best friends, but I can't lie. I know that people have their moments, but his entire life is one gigantic moment. I don't have a clue what goes through his mind, and I'm not so sure I want to know.

It confused me, however, when I tried to think of why he'd be reading the dictionary. I know I'm making a big deal out of this, but Oliver doesn't look things up. He just guesses, and makes himself look stupid.

Before long, I couldn't restrain myself. I couldn't stay in this position on the end of the couch opposite him any longer, without knowing.

"Oliver. What are you doing?" I finally asked. He stuck his finger in the book to keep his place and looked up at me, with one of his eyebrowes arched.

"Reading the dictionary, what's it look like?" He asked, before looking back down to the H section.

"I know...but why?" I must admit it, I was obsessed. I probably have OCD. It drives me crazy when I don't know things. It's probably a bad habit, but I have a pathological need to know things. I can't pass people talking in the streets without finding out what they're talking about. I don't know why I'm like that, it wasn't always that way. I'm just weird. The fumes from my smelly pre-teen fans have finally gone to my head.

"Because." He finally replied, not even looking up this time to explain his incredibly descriptive reasoning. He flipped a couple pages, and finally glanced at me. He knew this was driving me crazy. He was doing it on purpose.

"Olllll-iverrrr..." I whined, "Tell me what you're looking up!"

"Nothing, Miley, I'm not looking anything up." He said, trying, but failing miserably, to hide a smile.

"Yes you are! Seriously, if you don't tell me, I'll probably EXPLODE!" I said, modeling an explosion with my hands.

"Why do you even care?" He asked me, looking at me, with his finger keeping his place again, like I'd just jumped up on the coffee table and started doing jumping jacks. He thought I was insane, I could tell. For some reason though, it made me smile. He always seemed to do that. Everything he said seemed funny in my head, no matter how serious, or horriffically tragic it was. Maybe Oliver's the one that drove me to insanity.

I ignored his question.

"It's _my_ dictionary, you have to tell me!" I stated, _lightly tossing_ the remote at his head.

"Ow! You probably just killed a hundred of my brain cells. That hurt!" He complained, although he smiled as he said it. My stomach practically flipped over.

"It was suposed to." I announced, once I dug the words out of the deep hole in the back of my brain that all of my motor skills fell into when I was around him, and said them.

"Okay, let me get this straight. You're ruining my chances of passing my SATs because you want to know what word I'm looking up in the dictionary?" He summarized.

"You can always be an exotic dancer." I said.

Oh my god. I actually said that. What in the world is wrong with me? I need to super glue my lips shut. That probably wouldn't be a good idea though, concidering my current occupation.

"Because they don't have to be very smart, I mean." I added, trying to dig myself out of the hole I'd just got myself in. I only dug myself deeper.

"Not that you're not smart."

Where on earth is the little voice in the back of your head that tells you when it's time to SHUT UP? Mine obviously died. Or decided to be a mime or something.

Fortunately, I was able to stop myself from embarassing me further, and, also fortunately, what I'd just said to Oliver didn't really seem to register. He just went back to reading the stupid dictionary. I subdued myself for as long as I could, but after five minutes of staring at him without uttering a word, I couldn't take it any longer.

"JUST TELL ME!" I yelled at him. He obviously didn't expect me to do it, because he fell off the couch in surprise, and hit his funny bone on the coffee table.

"Miley! Would you rather I just, give myself a black eye or something and get it over with, or do you want to keep randomly hurting me?" He asked, getting back up.

"I'm sorry, I'm obsessed! I have OCD I think..."

"What's OCD?" He asked, looking at me like _I _was the idiot holding the dictionary. I nodded at the book he still had in his hands, and a look of realization appeared on his face.

"Right..." He flipped to the Os, and ran his finger down the list.

"Office of Civil Defense?" He asked, looking up at me, confused. I rolled my eyes and laughed silently to myself.

"No, Oliver, I don't have Office of Civil Defense. In case you haven't noticed, very few people consider that a disease...unless your an anarchist or whatever." He still looked confused. "Antigovernment people."

"Oh...right...cause they think the government's a disease..." He said, explaining the unneccessary. Oliver looked back in the book, and read the second definition aloud. "Obssesive-compulsive disorder...yeah, that just about describes you to a tee."

"Just like imbecile describes you." He stared at me for a minute, before he started flipping through the dictionary again. I could not believe how stupid he was. It had to be an act, nobody on earth could have an IQ as low as him. We were sixteen, he was suppoed to know what imbecile meant at that age. He'd definately been called one enough times.

"Oh my god Oliver, you've got to be kidding me." I cried, laughing.

"What's it mean then?" He asked me, closing Webster's and setting it down on the coffee table.

"It means you're stupid." I explained. He opened his mouth to object, but closed it and nodded in agreement.

"It's okay, I love you anyways." I told him, smiling, before I mentally slapped myself.

"I mean...well, you know what I mean." I hope.

"Yeah..." He said, before reaching for the dictionary again. I quickly set my foot on it, keeping it in place.

"Take your foot off." He ordered me. I shook my head no.

"Fine." He picked me up off the couch and slung me over his shoulder, like it was easy. I may be light, but I'm not _that_ light. If I didn't know any better, I'd say he'd been working out, but Oliver doesn't do anything that involves sweating.

"Hey!! Put me down!" I yelled, as he carried me into the kitchen and left me there, before sprinting back into the living room, jumping over the couch, and grabbing the dictionary before I could get to it again.

"I hate you, you know that?" I joked, as I slid to a stop behind him.

"Do I...antagonize you?" He asked, using the first word he found in the dictionary.

"No...and just so you know, that makes no sense." I told him, resting my hand on my hip.

"Yes it does! Listen...Antagonize: to make hostile or unfriendly. See? That fits this situation perfectly."

"It does not, I'm not hostile _or_ unfriendly." I denied. He looked at me, arching his eyebrow again.

"Okay, so maybe I'm a _little _unfriendly...sometimes." He smiled at me again, and my stomach leaped into the empty space in my head.

"Hey, you know what?" I asked, circling around to his other side.

"What?" He asked, letting go of the dictionary and watching me. I moved over some more, until I was between the dictionary and Oliver.

"I have the dictionary." I said, before I grabbed ahold of it and ran. He got up and chased me around the room. We were so weird.

I had a feeling somewhere in my mind, that he wasn't chasing me for the dictionary. I figured he'd given up on that along time ago. Now he was just trying to annoy me.

Oliver ran faster than me, which says just how unathletic I am, considering if he ran a race with a snail the snail would win, and grabbed me around the waist, lifting me off the ground. He let me down for a minute and tried, halfheartedly, to reach for the dictionary I was holding over my head.

I swear I must've knocked myself out somehow, because I _knew _he wasn't kissing me. Not Oliver. Oliver didn't like me as much as I liked him. I could feel the dictionary slip out of my fingers, though. I waited for a loud THUNK, but it never hit the ground. In less than a second, he was running back into the living room, holding the dictionary. I realized he'd figured out a way to distract me, and yelled at him for cheating.

"That was _so_ unfair! You can't do that!" I shouted at him, as I climbed over the back of the sofa and sat next to him. He looked at me for a minute, and I stared back at him.

"Soooo...what were you looking up?" I asked, smiling, as I broke the silence. He sighed, probably annoyed that we were starting all over. I doubt he wanted to chase me around the room again. I could hear him breathing faster than usual, and his face was red.

"To tell you the truth...I was just looking at the pictures."

**_Ok, so that was short, but I kinda gave up towards the end...at least it gave me something to do, other than get myself in trouble for annoying my brother. Ah, yeah, I keep forgetting to say this!! I redid my profile an extremely long time ago, and just today, I changed the poll thing, so I'd greatly apreciate it if you guys would check it out and stuff...cause appreciation is one of my strong points (ha)_**


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